The Drabble Collection: From Under the Desk
by frigginapplepie
Summary: Just a collection of drabbles that I've been writing. Very few will appear at some point or another in a longer fanfiction, but I figured I would put these out there for you all to enjoy in the meantime. Mostly Marauder central.
1. Of Death and Discovery

Disclaimer: I own thee not, for if I had, 'tis would be entitled The Marauders. It doth belong to the mastermind known as Rowling.

Where the Potters house had stood on the peaceful row at Godric's Hollow was now a mount of destruction. Window frames and scraps of bedding lay among the wreckage. Pieces of what looked like Lily Potter's Chinese pottery were strewn across the rocky grounds, smashed to pieces by the long beams that used to hold up the portico.

A black boot bottom, pant leggings dangling over the thick, leather straps, was heavily set down. A crunching noise of breaking glass came from beneath the foot. The shoe was lifted to reveal a picture, still in its frame, but with no glass to cover the image. The five people in it stood happily, unaware of the horrors outside of their frame.

Sirius Black bent over at the waist and picked up the picture, examining the well-groomed people. He smiled in spite of himself, recognizing it as the day of the Potters wedding.

Lily and James Potter stood hand in hand at the center of the framed in front of a large, elaborately designed cake. A doll stood at the top of the bakery, smiling and waving; an exact replica of the new couple, just bound in holy matrimony. To James's right was Sirius, arm slung around his best friend's shoulder. He was smiling and waving, constantly fixing the flower in his buttonhole so that the changing colors were evident. On Lily's left stood Remus Lupin, one arm at his side. The other hand was placed on Lily's shoulders. The bright grin plastered to his face was only outdone by that of the couple's. On Remus's other side was a short, squat boy that seemed to be trying his best to squeak out of the frame. With one hand, he fed the rat on his shoulder (Scamp, if Sirius's memory served him well enough; he was a Christmas gift from James in their second year) a Pumpkin Pastie. He kept scratching his ear nervously.

A vice-like grip seemed to take hold of Sirius's heart as he eyed Peter maliciously. An irrepressable anger boiled up inside of him. He knew it was Peter's fault that James and Lily were. . . .

Sirius dropped the frame to the ground, jerking the picture free of the frame. "James," he moaned into the cold night air. "Lily." He dropped his head forwards. "Why'd you have to go? Why'd you leave so much behind?"

His gaze caught that of Peter's in the picture. He could've sworn that Peter looked like he was taunting him, but when he blinked, it was gone. "I swear it, Pettigrew. I swear I'll kill you. I'LL KILL YOU, PETER! DO YOU HEAR ME?"

But a startled cry like that of an infant's broke Sirius from his trance.

He turned shakily, wobbling towards the source of the noise. Lifting a pillow that he recognized belonging to the chair that sat in what was once his godchild's nursery, Sirius stared down in disbelief.

"Harry?"

The wedding picture silently floated away into the darkness of memory.

So what do you think? This is more then likely going to appear in an upcoming chapter of Betrayal of Friends, a fic that I am presently working on. Any form of review is acceptable. Which, yes, is a hint to review. 


	2. Of Darts, Scrabble, and Demented Friends

Disclaimer: I own thee not.

Dedicated to Moony, on her day of birth. May you live to see the ripe old age of one hundred, and may I be there with you.

Sirius Black sat down heavily in the battered old armchair, flinging his legs over the left armrest. He used the right as a pillow and slung his right arm up and over the back of the chair. His left hand grazed the shaggy carpet below.

James Potter, meanwhile, stood about twenty feet away. In one hand were two darts,  
while the third dart hung limply in his other hand, dangling by his side. He lifted it, taking aim, and threw it at the board on the wall nearest the chair where Sirius sat.

Sirius let his head hang upside-down over the side of the chair. His deep gray eyes flew from James to the board. "Ooh, nice try, Jamsie-boy," he smirked as the dart made contact with its goal, "but I don't quite think that a one and a twenty are equal. Better luck next time, mate."

James groaned. "Yeah, I'm glad you told me. I get those two numbers confused all the time. It's a good thing I have someone here to straighten it out for me."

"No problem," Sirius simpered.

Rolling his eyes, James threw the last two darts, both just narrowly missing the twenty.

All the while, on the other side of the gigantic room, Peter Pettigrew Dan Remus Lupin sat playing the Muggle game Scrabble. Sirius and James looked over to them as Remus cried out: "Take that off! I wanted to make liver!"

"No," Peter said simply, his face cool and collected.

"Come on, liver's a cooler word than eel! Please, come on!" Sirius tried to suppress laughter, but failed.

James looked from the two on the floor to his half upside-down best mate. His mind wandered, collecting random thoughts that had not graced his mind in what seemed like ages. It seemed, to him at least. that he was dusting off layer upon layer of dust,  
uncovering memories that he never knew he had: memories of past train rides to Hogwarts; of days spent in the Common Room planning mayhem and mischief; of evenings spent at either Remus's house, or Peter's house, or James's house, but never at Sirius's (in fact, James wasn't sure if either of the remaining Marauder's had ever even seen his house); of moments just like this, where he appeared to dreaming, head stuck in the gutter. In truth, he was trying to preserve each moment spent with his closest friends.  
After all, once their final year of school ended, James wasn't even sure if he would see these three again. He wasn't about to tell them of his fears, sure that he would poked fun of, but he was sure, when the time was right, he would reveal his concerns, and seek the comfort they were always there to give.

"Yes!" Remus whooped, jerking James from his silent reverie. He looked over to where the game was still going on, then glanced at the smiling face of Sirius.

"What the . . . ?" James nodded his head in the direction of Remus and Peter, hoping for an explanation.

"Pete let Remmy have his spot on the board, but decided to keep his original points on the word, or at least, I think that's what happened. I don't really get these Muggle games, but,  
well, you know."

Remus got to his knees and began punching at the air. He pointed his finger at Peter enthusiastically, nearly hitting him in the face. "I told you liver was a better word then eel was!" Peter continually smiled nonchalantly and pointed down at the board. Remus jerked his head down to see what Peter was pointing at. "No fair! You can't get thirty-nine points from the word beaver!"

Laughter once more swelled from Sirius, but this time, spread to Peter and James. Remus however, scowled, and settled back into his seat on the floor.

This, James reminisced, is what life should be about. Spending time with those you care most about, no matter how queer, or demented even, they are.

A/N: Dedicated to my sisters, who inspired the Scrabble game, and to Amber, who kindly gave me the demented line. Happy birthday, Moony. May your years be filled with the dementedness of friendship. 


	3. Of the End of Summer

Disclaimer: I own thee not. Nor do I own the song "Crazy Train" by Ozzy. Wish I did,  
though. Own both, I mean.

Mayhem.

That was the only word to describe the Marauders' summers. They were always full of pranks and mischief, resulting in injuries more then once. Messes were made, authorities contacted, and several Muggles needed to have their memories modified. But that didn't stop the Marauders from doing what they did best. No, they were not that easily brought down. Downfalls should be more . . . exciting, they decided, and were thoroughly disappointed when they found theirs in homework.

Only a week remained of holiday, and their school essays, shopping, and packing were yet to be finished. Because of their lack of planning ahead, everyone but Remus had a hard time finishing their undertakings in time for the trip to Diagon Alley. The fact that you could no longer find your way through James's room only added to the problem.

"Wormtail!" Sirius called over the din of James's radio. "Toss me my money bag!"

"What?" Peter cried back.

"Mo-ney!" Sirius shouted again. He raised a hand and rubbed two of his fingers together,  
sending a sign language symbol to Peter. The watery-eyed boy nodded, and shoved his way though a pile of dirtied shirts, a pair of shoes, empty chip bags, chocolate frog wrappers, wrappers on which were scribbled notes for a Transfiguration or History of Magic essay, and an odd assortment of many other things. Triumphantly, Peter held up his hand, limply holding a sack filled with coins in it, and tossing it to Sirius.

Not even bothering to shout, Sirius mouthed the words, "Thank you," to Peter, holding up a thumbs-up sign. Peter nodded once more, and went back to sorting out his robes from James's.

As this had been going on, James had sneaked up behind Sirius, and quite randomly, he burst out into Muggle song lyrics at the top of his voice. "Going off the rails of a crazy train!" he shouted into Sirius's ear. The other Marauders' laughed as Sirius let out a startled yelp, whipping out his wand and turning on James. Once he had noticed who it was behind him (James had dissolved into fits of laughter, and was now rolling about on the floor on top of several books and articles of clothing), he scowled and calmly put his wand back into the casing that hung at his belt.

"You can't be too safe, now a days," the pure blood tried to reason with them.

James ruffled his hair. "Sure you can't, Padfoot."

"Shut up," he snapped back, swatting away James's hand.

"Ooh, pushy, are we?" James smirked, an evil grin playing on his features. "Not get enough sleep, hm? Too busy talking about, what was is, roosters, maybe?"

"No, just . . . ." Sirius stalled, an idea crashing down upon him. He tilted his head to the side, peering out the window, his steely gray eyes staring at something that was not there.  
"Hey," he said after a moment, "is that . . . Evans?"

"Evans?" James jumped up instantly. "Where? Is my hair okay? My shirt clean, no stains? Ooh, let me see! Wait a . . . where'd she go?"

The other three boys fell into a wave of hysteria once again at James's reaction. "Yeah,  
hardy-har-har, Padfoot. I laugh at your wit."

"I know," Sirius replied through gasps for breath, "most people do." He seemed to suddenly grow quite interested in his nails, just in time for James's hand to come crashing down on the back of his head. Before Sirius could retort, Remus let out s victorious "Ha!  
I found it!"

James and Sirius spun around and Peter looked up from where he had been trying to match up three socks unsuccessfully. "Found what?" they asked near simultaneously.

"This," Remus said, holding up a piece of parchment.

Peter crawled over to Remus, and Sirius, using James as a vault, vacated an empty spot on the floor just behind them. He grabbed the paper just as James joined them. Small scribbles, drawings, and phrases covered the parchment. "What exactly is this?" Sirius asked, turning it over to view it from several angles, much to the annoyance of James,  
who was trying to read the neat handwriting.

Remus snatched it away. "You'll see," he said, smiling as he placed it inside of his half-packed trunk. "It's just a few . . . ."

"Boys!" The call of James's mum cut Remus short. "Are you ready yet? We're leaving for Diagon Alley - now!"

"Coming, Mum!" James called through the closed door. The four stood, Sirius hopping slightly as he attempted to pull on a sock. The other three scrambled to find their money sacks and school lists, and James to shut the radio off. Once they were all set, they made a beeline for the stairs.

After all, Diagon Alley was a sign that school was about to begin, and the Marauders were truly looking forwards to it. 


	4. Of Feet

Disclaimer: I do not own the Marauders.  
James Potter has always preferred socks. If he has to choose between shoes, socks, or bare feet, the middle choice always holds strongest for him. To him, socks are the barrier you cannot exceed, that holds the warmth in, and repels the cold. They are more defensive then going around barefoot, yet they are thin enough to allow him to feel the delightful touch of the earth. When he becomes the majestic stag, the sock is slowly transformed into a heavy hoof, that pounds against the ground in a steady rhythm.  
Sirius Black loves going around without covering his feet. He marvels at how the unguarded foot seems to react differently when touching the ground, how the toes always stay in an upper position, hovering above the ground until the heel and ball of the foot are planted firmly on the ground, slowly joining them, grasping the dirt tenderly. He loves the sensation of sand between the toes, of dirt sticking to the soles of each foot, and the grass that tickles at the ankle. He cherishes the mud that gets stuck between his paws as he runs through the turf as a dog.  
Remus Lupin enjoys sandals. He likes things so that there is a protection from the sensitive spots, and the rest of his foot is open to the elements. He smiles when the morning dew rubs off of the grasses and onto his pant legs, soaking the soles of his shoes and dampening his flesh; how the rocks indent the shoes in all the right (and occasionally wrong) places; and how, once done with them, they slide off easily. As a werewolf, he is not sure how it feels, as he is rarely sure of anything at those times. Somewhere, though,  
in the deep recesses of his mind, he is sure that he still would have chosen to wear sandals, queer though it may be.  
Peter Pettigrew finds comfort in shoes. He feels protected from the outside evils whenever he wears them. They allow him freedom to romp about wherever he pleases,  
and not have to worry about sticks or thorns or bees. He likes knowing that he controls what goes in and comes out, and that the only thing that he has to worry about concerning them is the undeniable blister that forms from years of wear and tear. Once he becomes a mouse, he loses that feeling of self-protection, and dashes off to wherever he feels is the safest.  
Lily Evans, soon to be Lily Potter, delights in bare feet, watching her toes wiggle in the cool stream water. She feels joyous at the tickling sensation that fills her as a friend rubs a finger down her socked foot, eliciting a light giggle. She loves the beach sand that stealthily sneaks between her foot and her flip flop as she kicks it casually into the sea water, and finds condolence knowing that with her shoes, nothing can penetrate the thick leather hide and reach the skin. After her marriage to James, her interests did not diverge,  
and she found herself like a paste that stuck the Marauders together. 


	5. Of Vanishing Chess Games

Disclaimer: I still don't own the Marauders. If I did, there would be no use for the word disclaimer, and it would be one less word in all of our vocabularies.

Sirius Black demanded his black knight to move forwards two spaces and left one.

Sitting across from him, James Potter groaned, and ran his right hand through his already messed-up black hair. Sirius grinned as he watched his knight draw its blade from its sheath, and smash James's white queen to pieces. The hand James had been running through his hair slowly disappeared, along with his wrist.

"Walked right into that one, mate," Sirius smirked. "You should know by now, think before you move. You are playing a champ, after all."

James was about to sneer back, but a familiar voice calling his name cut him off. "In here," James called out, as a boy with sandy brown hair walked through the doorway and into the room, holding two pieces of paper in one hand, the other tucked deeply into his pocket.

"Moony?" James cocked his head to the side. "What's up? Why you here?"

"Is it against the law for the boy to visit?" Sirius scolded.

"Well, it's my house," James retorted. "I should have a right to know."

Remus disregarded their conversation, and went to sit down in a shabby old recliner. He was too busy staring at his friends - or rather, what remained of them. From the waist down, the messy-haired boy had vanished, along with a good portion of his right arm and his neck. Remus then looked at Sirius, who was faring no better, with his left leg,  
stomach, and left hand missing.

"Care to give me an explanation?" Remus asked, almost worriedly.

Sirius sprawled out on the floor, looking up at Remus. "Sure you want to hear one"  
Sirius queried in return, tucking his hands beneath his head as a pillow.

"I'm almost certain I don't, but go on: humor me."

"Okay," Sirius said, "there once was this leprechaun, and he walked into a bar, and said to the bar tender, 'Do you have any greeeen beeeer?'"

James and Remus groaned, having heard this joke next to a thousand times. The former hit Sirius in the back of the head, or what he could reach of it. "Actually, Moony," James said, glaring harshly at Sirius, who casually twiddled his thumbs and hummed a childish tune, "Padfoot got bored, so we decided to play chess, but he was still bored, so he decided to bewitch the pieces to vanish their player whenever they're destroyed."

"All right," Remus ventured. "Now, how long does it take for the effect to wear off?"

James and Sirius looked at each other for a moment, considering, before they burst out laughing. "Actually, Moony," Sirius beamed as the laughter subsided, "we hadn't thought of that. Guess we'll have to wait to find out!"

Remus looked thunderstruck. "Do you mean to tell me you could be invisible until the start of the term?"

"That'd be ruddy brilliant!" Sirius cried, clapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly.

"Hope it lasts till end of term, rather," James added. "Think of all the pranks we could pull without being seen! And all the detentions we'd miss out of - until they found it was us, that is."

The two burst into laughter again. "Oi vey," Remus sighed, holding his head in his hands and shaking it slightly. "But what did I expect? I was asking the Kings of Mayhem if they had thought before they had acted. I should have seen it coming." 


End file.
